


Scarsdale

by transmarkcohen



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Adopted, F/F, F/M, Gay, M/M, Teenager, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmarkcohen/pseuds/transmarkcohen
Summary: Mark's parents adopt him when he is 14 and he moves to Scarsdale from New York City. From the moment he meets Maureen, things go differently than he expected.
Relationships: Joanne Jefferson/Maureen Johnson, Mark Cohen/Maureen Johnson, Mark Cohen/Roger Davis, Mimi Marquez/Original Character(s), Roger Davis/Maureen Johnson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Scarsdale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anothergayrentfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothergayrentfan/gifts).



Maureen was biking in the neighborhood when she passed by the old house. She stopped, noticing people moving in. For years the house had been abandoned - apparently not any longer. 

She threw the kickstand down and parked her bike in front, walking up to the house as she unclasped her helmet. A boy about her age was sitting outside, writing in a notebook. He was blond, pale, and wore a kippah. 

“Hi,” Maureen said, plopping down next to him. Startled, the boy dropped his notebook, and the pencil went rolling down the hill into the street. He quickly got up and caught it, sitting back down next to Maureen. 

“Uh…hi,” he said. “Who are you?” 

“Maureen,” and she held out her hand to shake. He glanced at it warily, and then shook. 

“I’m-my name is-I mean I-uh, Mark,” he said awkwardly, blushing. “We just...we’re moving in.” 

Maureen laughed. “I can see that. Are you Jewish?” 

“What?” 

She pointed at his kippah. He glanced up, seeming to have forgotten that it was there, then looked back at her. 

“Yeah. I mean-I guess I am.” Mark hugged his knees. “I-um-I’m adopted. I mean, like, recently adopted. So I dunno if I’m actually Jewish...my parents are.” He pointed at them, a man and a woman carrying other boxes into the house. They actually looked a lot like Mark, and Maureen thought if he hadn’t told her, she would’ve never guessed he was adopted. 

“Cool.” Maureen grinned and lay down on the grass, closing her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Mark asked. 

“Sleeping.” 

“On our yard?” 

Maureen opened one eye and grinned. “Why not?” 

Mark sighed, looking at the town. “You know, this is actually pretty far from where I lived before. I’m from the city.” 

“Oh, I could tell  _ that.”  _ Maureen said. 

Mark blushed, but said nothing more. 

Over the next few days Maureen stopped by the house often, growing a friendship with Mark. She learned that his favorite color was blue, that he’d lived in an orphanage for all 14 years of his life until his parents had adopted him (this past summer), and that he wanted to be a filmmaker when he grew up. She told him of her desire to be an activist, to invoke change in the world where it desperately needed some. 

One day Mark and Maureen were sitting in the attic, Maureen fanning herself with an old program from a play Mark’s parents had gone to when they were engaged. Maureen looked over at Mark. She found herself daydreaming about him - his hair was so soft, she knew from when they’d hugged. He was adorable rambling on about his favorite movies and anything to do with the film industry. She…

Maureen stopped fanning. Oh my god, she had a  _ crush  _ on Mark. She smiled to herself and looked at the play.  _ Mouth of a Messiah,  _ it was titled. The front cover of the program gave no hints as to what it was about. She wondered, and daydreamed about a time when  _ she’d  _ be engaged to Mark. 

“Maureen?” Mark said, lifting her out of her thoughts. Oh, god, that voice. She loved that voice. She turned to him, smiling. 

“Yeah?” 

“I have to...tell you something.” Mark’s eyes flitted across her face. He was normally pale, but right now, even more so. He had extremely blue eyes. 

“Sure, Mark, what is it?” 

He looked away from her, then stared straight into her eyes. “I’m transgender. I...lied to you. I had one foster home, but they kicked me out when I came out as trans. My parents now are nice. They bought me a binder.” He pulled back his shirt to reveal the binder poking out. 

Maureen stared. Mark braced for the worst. Then, Maureen asked, “What’s transgender?” 

Mark stared at her. “You can’t be serious.” 

Mark had met his adoptive parents about a year ago. Mrs. Cohen and her husband had shown up at the orphanage, looking for an older child. He’d lived here his whole life, except for the most recent year-he’d come out to his foster parents as transgender, and they’d kicked him out.He’d grown depressed then. But the orphanage was accepting and sympathetically took him back in. 

But Mr. and Mrs. Cohen had visited the orphanage on multiple occasions. Eventually, they decided on Mark. He remembered one of the more important meetings they’d had. They had sat at a round table, Mark on one side, his prospective parents on the other. Mrs. Cohen smiled. 

“So...you made up your minds now?” Mark asked hesitantly. “You’ll adopt me?” The Cohens looked at each other, and then nodded. 

“Of course,” Mrs. Cohen replied, reaching out a hand to Mark and placing it on his. “We just want to know if you’re okay with taking our last name.” 

“Yes,” Mark said immediately. “I don’t have any connection to my birthname. I mean, I changed my first name to Mark, and with Williams...I mean I don’t know my birth parents. At all. I was raised here. So, uh, yeah, I’ll take Mark Cohen.” 

Mr. Cohen grinned at that. “Wonderful!” he said. Mark gave his new father a shaky smile. The man was extremely blond, and rather pale...kind of like Mark. 

There were a few more papers that the Cohens had to sign before they could take Mark back to the hotel. Then they would drive him to the town they were moving to, about an hour outside of New York City - Scarsdale. 

Mark gathered all his things, pulled on a blue sweatshirt that he loved, and said goodbye to the only home he’d known for all fourteen years of his life. Then he walked with his parents to their car, ready to start this new chapter of his life. 


End file.
